Black as Their Soul
by Purple Embers
Summary: All we were was just some kids caught in the crossfire.


**A/N: Hello. Well this was written for the Caesar's Palace Forum, Colour Prompt Challenge. (Go there, we have cookies~) And the prompt is **_**black.**_** I tried to make this as enjoyable as possible, well not really enjoyable as in happy (well it **_**is **_**the Hunger Games) but enjoyable as in for your entertainment. Anyway, thank you for reading. Tata. ~Em.**

The day before the bomb's came, there was peace. It was almost unnatural to those of us who had become used to the constant echoes of screams and sounds of small landmines going off in the distance. After a while everyone gets used to war.

(Sorry, _rebellion.)_

But those who had grown up in the luxury of not having these cursed things were at ease; "it's like the good old days" they would all say. And the smaller children would crowd around the campfire for tales of when everything was peaceful and the sun was a rolling ball in the sky and people could walk around unafraid.

(I want it to be _those_ days again.)

But when the older ones were out of stories we would be pulled harshly back into reality. Like a splash of cold water waking you up out of a beautiful dream. And we would stumble back to our little wooden houses that could barely fit a family of two and collapse out of tiredness onto our tiny bed's, and dream of the better days before.

(But dreams _don't _come true.)

When the weak sunlight began to shine through the curtains, we had to get up. Children as little as five would have to go to the message station and dismantle secret messages from soldiers on the front line. The older ones would learn how to work guns, as preparation for the next few years when _we_ would be the ones out there and our tiny brothers and sisters would be decoding complicated and top secret messages from us, just a normal day in District Thirteen.

(Well we_ thought_ it was normal.)

When we began to trudge home after our long day early in the afternoon, we looked up at the sky. It was a kind of ritual that we did; it reminded us that no matter what, the sky was blue and that wouldn't change no matter what the cursed Capitol did. But it wasn't a familiar light blue; it was an inky black, the colour of dark, dark smoke. It was the first sign that something was wrong, terribly wrong.

(And the second sign was right above us but we didn't see_ them_.)

We all began to run home, our feet cutting into the sharp rocks that littered the various footpaths. But before we could get home to our tiny cottages we heard a strange high pitched noise, like the flying planes that sometimes the District soldiers would take out to the other District's to find out what was happening with on their end. But surely it couldn't be them, the District soldiers. But it wasn't.

(Capitol _scum_.)

The planes were getting lower and lower, the smaller kids were crying with harsh wails and the older children were staring in shock, we all knew there was no point in running, the black smoke had been a facade to hide the Capitol's planes. Sure we were rebelling, but we didn't deserve this, we just wanted freedom.

(Freedom _always _comes at a price.)

We saw the small objects begin to fall out of the inky black sky. The sky we had looked up to and smiled at was turning its back on us, leaving us for dead. Our parents were nowhere to be seen, probably hiding in the bomb shelters. Why hadn't they called the alarm? Why?

(People do inhumane things in the face of death.)

The sky turned into a firework of different colours, a mushroom like cloud in shape began to grow bigger and bigger at an alarming rate. Suddenly the cloud began rushing towards us immediately killing pretty much us all. The bodies around me were lifeless, frightening forms with no skin or black burn marks all over their bodies the one's that had escaped the quicker death were moaning with guttural low noises, exposed flesh on their skin and blood flowing out of open wounds.

(Death _hurts.)_

The only thing that was visible now was the smoke around us burning black; the colour of the soul of the evil Capitol. They killed this war today and we... lost and there's no going back.

We children died for adult's mistakes and we still do to this day.

_**Fin.**_


End file.
